


Beneath the Pale Moonlight

by justinlovesart



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:29:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justinlovesart/pseuds/justinlovesart





	Beneath the Pale Moonlight

In his dreams, he remembered the dance.

“But not when you’re awake,” was Brian’s terse comment, when Justin finally told him on a freezing winter morning that seeped through the gauze-thin windows of his New York apartment. 

Justin barely opened his eyes to see him walk around stark naked except for a pair of knitted socks adorned with red and white maple leaves. He laughed at Brian’s shrivelled cock (“It’s the cold, asshole. I hope you treat your tricks with a little common courtesy and turn up the heat when they visit”), and retreated back under covers, holding on to the lingering body warmth and the fading dream.

He really didn’t want to wake up just yet, hoping to fall asleep again and start from where he’d left off. 

They had been floating right above the Allegheny river in full sunlight and Brian had pointed at a dark shadow that moved swiftly near the surface of the water: a giant catfish, so fast they could barely keep up with it; it had made them turn and swirl and laugh, and Justin had suddenly felt everything flood back to him...

“I don’t dream the prom itself,” Justin explained, when Brian finally came back with two large cups of hot, black coffee. “Only that I’m doing something and all of a sudden everything comes back to me.” 

Brian looked at him, waiting for more, pretending to drink while holding his breath, so Justin told him about the catfish while running his hand up and down Brian’s arm, marvelling at how smooth it was, how toned after all these years.

Then he continued.

“It could be anything, anywhere.” He took a sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, and glanced at the heavy, grey sky outside the window. 

“Once, we were at a deserted gas station at night. You were filling up the Corvette and no one else was around, not a soul, not a single light from the convenience store, just a huge full moon in a starless sky. I was dozing on and off in the car when a Jeep drove past, without making a sound. I followed it in my side mirror until it disappeared into the night. I couldn’t see who was inside, but they were wearing tuxedos, and it all came back.”

Brian took long gulp from his cup.

“I didn’t say a word but looked at you through the window screen as you put the gas pump back in its holder. You walked up to me, never breaking eye contact.” Justin moved closer and kissed Brian’s collarbone. “I was afraid of telling you that I remembered, but you knew it already.”

“I wouldn’t be afraid,” Brian said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Not anymore.”

Justin nodded. “I would tell you. If it happened, I would tell you right away.”

They put their cups down and slid fully under the comforters, their naked bodies warm and familiar.

“You’re still wearing those socks,” Justin smiled in Brian’s arms.

“Jenny Rebecca’s gift,” he explained. “Mel has matching ones.”

Justin told him of many more dreams that ended just as the memory of the prom dance started to surface. He knew in those dreams he could finally remember, but once he woke up he could never quite recall the actual dance.

Brian listened and touched and run his fingers through Justin’s hair until it was time to fuck, which they did to the sound of snow falling over the city, at last.

He didn’t tell Justin that once, at a gas station between Vermont and Pennsylvania, he’d heard Save The Last Dance For Me coming from another car that was filling up. He had looked up at the passenger seat of the Corvette, feeling for the first time something other than dread. But Justin had only smiled at him, blank and untroubled by memories forever lost to him.


End file.
